


Home Alone

by Knoodles



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Miya Atsumu, Established Relationship, M/M, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn Video, Sex Tapes, Top Sakusa Kiyoomi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:29:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25819609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Knoodles/pseuds/Knoodles
Summary: "Kiyoomiiee,” he drawls, his face close to the camera, his lids flutter, and he fusses with his hair for almost an entire minute, a fluffy, just washed and blow-dried mass atop his head. “You won’t know, but I’m recording us.”“Oh my god,” Atsumu mumbles aloud, “it can’t be... No way…”..Atsumu found a vid he didnt even remember recording and he's teriffied but also lowkey impressed.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 9
Kudos: 484





	Home Alone

**Author's Note:**

> Heloooo peeps,, more filth! FILTHHHHH! n a reminder they're already in a stable relationship! i just want more domestic happy sakuatsu fics n not them being angsty! let them be in loveeeeee.. although atsumu is alone in this but still,, they're happy ok! 
> 
> and if you havent read my previous fic,, its okay there's nothing related but only the fact that i have this headcannon that sakusa is TOTALLY comfortable to touch someone he loves so there wont be any germaphobe tendencies in the fic. 
> 
> also this is unbetaed.. idk who i could send this to proofread either,,,
> 
> All the italics text are gonna be the vid content, i hope its not confusing.

Atsumu sighs for the hundredth time that day. Sakusa wasn't home, he's outside hanging out with Komori somewhere and Atsumu _wasn't invited_ or in Sakusa's words, he wasn't _allowed to follow_ cos Atsumu is an attention whore and if he doesn't get any attention from Sakusa during the outing, he'll get sulky and bratty. 

"So… you'll just stay home and sulk alone, okay Tsumu," were the last words uttered by Sakusa before he left a pouty— _not sulking—_ Atsumu staring at the door, hoping Sakusa would come back because _he didn't even get his goodbye kiss!_

Atsumu groaned. He was _bored_ and it's not like he could disturb his teammates right now. It's the weekends and he remembered Bokkun mentioning about bringing Akaashi on a date and Shouyo blabbering about going back to his hometown with Tobio. 

"What are you going to do this weekend, Tsumtsum?" Bokuto had asked in which Atsumu unabashedly told him that _he and Omi are gonna fuck like rabbits--_ earning him a slap on the back of his head from Sakusa, himself. His pride had hurt more than his head but it's okay because Sakusa slapping or spanking him is really _really_ okay especially in bed—

but now all of that doesn't matter anymore since he's alone. Atsumu yawns as he enters his bedroom, taking his laptop with him since there is nothing better to do anyways. He shuts the door and falls beneath the cover. His fingers hover over the keyboard and he opens the folder marked _Photos_ , skimming through all the random pictures he has inside.

He barely spares them a glance before he picks one at random—he doesn’t remember taking most of them anyways since he barely has time to actually look at them— the picture shows a bunch of people sitting in a restaurant at a twelve-person party table with high, bar stool-type chairs, some faces he can see and others have their backs to the camera. He sees Sakusa immediately, the center of attention, a pink and purple conical party hat on his head— and Atsumu sitting on his lap.

“ _We kinda look cute here_ ,” Atsumu mutters to himself, a small smile peeking from behind the hand he used to prop his chin.

Sakusa’s hand clutches, casually, at Atsumu’s hip while Atsumu poises a knife over a cake with melted candles and _Happy Birthday Kiyoomi!_ scrawled across it in flowy frosting. There’s booze everywhere and what looks like leftover remains of food and chips. Atsumu’s mouth is frozen in a huge smile, two conical hats on his head stick out like horns, while Sakusa’s head is tipped back, sipping at a beer.

There’s a bunch of other pictures of him and his teammates, some with his brother and also a file dedicated for his selfies. _Atsumu might be little vain. Only a little bit._ He clicks on another folder, _Videos_ , and a bunch of thumbnails appear in the window. He wasn’t expecting anything because the last time he used his laptop was to skype Osamu and his parents, and that was 4 months ago. Atsumu leans in a little to squint at them because he thinks he sees people, and then—

And then he sees his own face. The video is dated almost six months to this day.

Atsumu opens it and adjusts the volume, and there he is. Atsumu scrunched his face, confused because he really did not remember recording this. 

_“Kiyoomiiee,” he drawls, his face close to the camera, his lids flutter, and he fusses with his hair for almost an entire minute, a fluffy, just washed and blow-dried mass atop his head. “You won’t know, but I’m recording us.”_

“Oh my god,” Atsumu mumbles aloud, “it can’t be... _No way_ …”

_Atsumu takes several steps back so most of his body is visible, from the knees up. A lewd smirk plays across his lips. “I’m wearing yer shirt.”_

Atsumu whimpers and clasps a terrified hand over his mouth as on-screen-Atsumu reaches down slowly to lift the hem of the grey t-shirt, the one he's currently wearing today. He tugs the shirt to the side, and the fabric finds each dip and hollow of definition in his chest and abdomen. Atsumu wants to scream because _how could he not remember having this in his laptop_.

_“These are new,” he mentions off-handedly, just as the shirt comes up enough to reveal tight black briefs and the deep vee of a defined pelvic bone. A slow, seductive smirk tugs his lips upwards, and his eyes gleam, cat-like into the lens._

Atsumu bites at his nails, his heart hammering in his chest because he’s become a pornographer. _MSBY Black Jackel's setter has become a pornographer!_ He's horrified but also a little impressed. He looks cute though. Sakusa’s shirt drowning his figure even though he’s only a few inches shorter than him. Atsumu makes a mental note to find the camera he used because _the quality is so good_ but he also has to make sure he had deleted these kind of vids in case he forgot about them again.

 _There’s a sudden sound in the distance, and Atsumu's face brightens and he sends a flirty smile to the camera. “You’re home,” he turns and makes for the bed, and he’s completely visible, then, head to toe, standing on the bed in Sakusa’s shirt and only underwear, when he starts to bounce lightly atop the mattress_.

“ _What the hell,_ _tsumuuu_ ” Atsumu rubs a hand over his eyes, feeling himself cringing but he can’t stop watching.

_A second shape, tall, starts to materialize in the corner of the screen where the doorway is, facing the jumping Atsumu, approaching the bed with a sluggish, lazy stride. Sakusa._

_"What_ _are you up to?” He chuckles loudly enough to hear, but Atsumu just grins and leaps to the edge of the bed as Sakusa sets his stuff on the floor, until they’re right in front of each other. Atsumu towers over him standing on the bed, laughing as Sakusa tips his head back to look up at him. “I missed you.”_

Atsumu's chest clenches at the admission, unaware of how sappy he and Sakusa could be sometimes. He watches, transfixed, as Sakusa's arms wind around Atsumu's hips and his hands go right for his ass beneath the t-shirt.

_“I missed you, too,” Atsumu wraps his arms around Sakusa's neck, one of his hands crawling up his nape. “How was your day?”_

_Sakusa sighs heavily, his hands visibly massaging Atsumu’s backside as he stares up at him, a content smile prodding at his mouth. “Terrible, until now. Yours?”_

_Atsumu shrugs and leans against him, “Same.” And then he kisses him on the lips._

Atsumu groans behind his hand. He vaguely remembers that Sakusa had to take care of some family business that day, in which he and Atsumu were separated for only a day. He might be dramatic but it’s also Sakusa's fault for indulging him. His on-screen-self practically jumps on Sakusa, his legs wrap around his waist, their mouths tangle in a deep, seemingly endless kiss that’s all sighs and smacking lips. They’re disgusting—

_Atsumu hisses suddenly, and Sakusa's hearty laugh is swathed in the intermittent little snaps of lips on lips. “Your hands are cold,” Atsumu tells him, squirming away from the hands that hike his shirt up to the middle of his back and slip over his skin._

_“Then warm them up.”_

He hears one of them make a noise, maybe Sakusa, but he’s not sure. When they drop onto the bed, Atsumu holds on Sakusa's neck guiding him down on top of him so their heads are closest to wherever the camera is, their mouths still flush.

_“If you keep wearing this,” Sakusa pulls away to say, trailing kisses along Atsumu's neck, hands vanishing and reappearing, one on Atsumu's bare thigh and the other pushing up the t-shirt. Atsumu wiggles beneath him as the fabric clears his heaving chest. “We’re going to have a problem.”_

_Atsumu just laughs and shuffles around until he’s pulled the shirt over his head. He throws it onto the floor and levels Sakusa with a challenging smirk. “There. It’s gone.”_

Atsumu's eyes widen when Sakusa dives back in and they start making out again, rubbing each other all over, moaning constantly as their bodies grind sensually, sighing each other’s names so harshly. Atsumu jabs a finger on the keys to turn the volume higher, his restraint thrown out if the window, cursing Sakusa as he does so because if Sakusa hadn't left him alone, he wouldn't be jacking off on porn vids of themselves like a horny teenager.

 _At some point Sakusa suddenly rears up onto his haunches between Atsumu's spread legs. He stares down at Atsumu's face as he carelessly undoes each button on his shirt while Atsumu's hands busy themselves tearing his belt open. The buckle jingles, and one of Atsumu's legs snakes impatiently up along Sakusa's hip as he yanks down his zipper_.

“mmmmhhh” Atsumu covers his eyes again and the moans get louder, fabric rustles audibly, his heart beating fast as he peers between two of his fingers to see what happens next.

_“Kiyoomieeee…” Atsumu mutters. Sakusa is down between his legs, peeling his briefs from his hips, Atsumu's erection springing free against his face._

_Sakusa wraps his hand around the base of Atsumu's cock and strokes it firmly, mouthing the inside of Atsumu's thigh with his tongue and his teeth. Atsumu tilts his head back and peers straight into the camera upside down with a devious smirk, clutching at the sheet beneath his writhing body, licking his lips and moaning softly._

_“Suck me off,” he demands, eyes still on the camera, his gaze clouded over with arousal, panting. And Sakusa, oblivious, obliges._

Atsumu takes a sharp intake of breath when it happens. He sees Sakusa's mouth close over his double’s tip and he groans— he hears his own voice on screen contort into a near growl and it lights something inside him, a twitch of his own arousal, hardening embarrassingly quickly beneath the covers.

Somehow the camera picks up the sloppy sucking noises as Sakusa works him with his mouth, each one growing louder that has Atsumu's hand sliding down his own torso and underneath the band of his boxers. Atsumu hums and moans in the video as he holds Sakusa in place by the back of his neck, hips jerking up and down on the mattress towards release.

His moans heighten in both volume and urgency in the speakers, and Atsumu bites his lip at the clear use of power his recorded self exercises over Sakusa like this, that Sakusa lets him have. Suddenly video-Atsumu hisses sharply and the hand on Sakusa'a neck shoves at his shoulder instead, pushing him upright.

_Sakusa's lips withdraw from Atsumu's shiny cock with a wet pop, and he blinks up at Atsumu, breathless and red-lipped. He crawls up until Atsumu's legs wrap about his waist again and his own hands find purchase just outside Atsumu's shoulders. Sakusa looks large, as he looms over Atsumu, breathing heavily and nuzzling at his jaw and kissing his neck._

_“Do you want me to fuck you?” his voice is ragged, muffled almost into Atsumu's throat, and Atsumu nods vehemently, his eyes shut. Sakusa is still on top of him as he begins to turn over onto his stomach, eagerly pushing the dramatic curve of his ass against Sakusa's still-clothed crotch. Sakusa grunts, greedy hands tug Atsumu by the hips so he’s on his hands and knees in front of him._

_Sakusa doesn’t take his eyes off of the twin mounds spread before him as he steps out of his boxers and throws them on the floor, reaching down to touch himself as Atsumu tosses a bottle in his general direction._

Atsumu stops breathing at the sight of Sakusa fully nude, the grainy image of his broad chest and the shadows of his jaw and cheekbones, the long arc of his erection against his lower abdomen. He squeezes his cock and feels pre-ejaculate gush from the tip when Sakusa starts to pour oil into his hand.

_Atsumu's hips give an impatient shimmy that Sakusa replies with a hand in the small of Atsumu's back, pressing down, down, until his spine dips and his ass arches up in the air. He drops his face to the mattress, his knees sliding further apart as Sakusa presses, not one, but two fingers inside him. He winces, and then his voice spills out, sudden and thick in a shout that quickly becomes lost in the pillows._

He takes a shaky inhale and can’t stop his hand from rubbing up and down his shaft, watching Sakusa finger him vigorously, Sakusa's free hand propped on one ass cheek while Atsumu keens below, rolling his hips against the fingers pressing into him.

_It’s too soon when Sakusa withdraws his fingers. Atsumu moans in protest and his hand appears, reaching back and pushing his fingers into himself. The muscles in his thighs twitch in time with the quick, haphazard scissoring motion of his own fingers before Sakusa has his wrist in hand and gingerly pulls them back out. Atsumu whines and plants both hands flat near his head, spreading his legs a little more as Sakusa massages more lubricant onto his thick erection._

_His hands encase Atsumu's hips as he lines himself up and pushes forward. Atsumu's mouth drops open, Sakusa sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and tosses his head back, and Atsumu lets out a long cry as Sakusa slowly sinks into him. The noise cuts off as soon as he’s in completely, dissolving in a curse._

_Atsumu gasps shakily and Sakusa's hands strain to keep Atsumu hips still when his pelvis presses tight to the swell of Atsumu's ass, and Sakusa stills, breathing hard, louder than Atsumu's soft whimpers as he adjusts to his size._

Atsumu goes immobile, focusing on what they were doing on-screen, his lips parted, pupils blown wide in seeing himself like this— his own body, bent over in front of a man whose dick is inside him, wanting it, shivering in anticipation. He sees Sakusa draw his hips back, sees the abrupt shift of his own face pressing down against the mattress and the muscles in his biceps and forearms tighten, and then Sakusa starts to fuck him.

_It’s rough— it looks like it hurts. Atsumu's voice leaves him, high, desperate things as Sakusa thrusts into him at a smooth, ardent pace. He doesn’t pause. His hips smack against Atsumu's ass loudly in the room, and Sakusa moans as he pushes Atsumu flat onto his stomach and drapes himself along his back, pounding him mercilessly. His fingers spider through Atsumu's hair and tug his head back—_

_Atsumu's eyes are slits in his face, clenched shut, his open mouth exhales winded moans that roam free in the open air. Sakusa nudges his nose against Atsumu's cheekbone and Atsumu turns, squeezing clumps of sheets in his hands, until their mouths connect, tongues meeting in a flash of pink between panting lips._

The laptop slips sideways off one thigh when Atsumu's leg jerks suddenly as his hand moves over his stiff organ, his lids droop, heavy so the video blurs—

_“Harder,” Atsumu orders, and the sound of flesh on flesh grows louder, his moans are sharp, accompanied by expletives and groans in the twisted, guttural distortion of Sakusa's voice as he obeys._

Atsumu rocks his hips back and forth, the fiery sensation roiling in him seething to boiling point as he watches the two of them move together in desperate purpose until—

_Atsumu cries out first, pushing his ass back against Sakusa thrusting hips over and over and then holding them still, even as Sakusa continues driving him into the mattress. He squeezes the pillow beneath his face and gasps, his shoulder curling up as Sakusa drops kisses along the inside of his neck until he gives one, two, three hard thrusts and then moans his completion against Atsumu's sweaty back._

He’s panting by the end, all the bliss and euphoria of release seeping out in each hurried breath, and in flows shame when he sees the drying spurts of come on his shirt, _Sakusa’s shirt,_ his spent cock still clutched in one hand. He swallows and tears his eyes from the screen as he sits up straighter, lifts his hips to pull his boxers back over himself.

In his periphery the two shapes in the video still move, sluggish, flesh swishing against fabric, and Atsumu’s attention is there again to see himself turn over, to see Sakusa’s hands caressing up and down the length of his sides as their mouths reconnect. One of them whispers, and then they laugh— Atsumu’s lips draw upwards at the sound.

_“I love you,” Atsumu mumbles, stroking at Sakusa’s hair with his fingertips, gazing into eyes the camera cannot see. They kiss again, gently, slowly, until Atsumu rolls Sakusa over onto his back and lays himself on top of him. He is smiling._

Atsumu blushes— the way they are with each other. It’s one thing to hear from others complaining about them when they’re with each other, but seeing it for himself is something else. They go from playful to tender to sexy and back to tender in a matter of seconds. He swipes a hand across his forehead, watching as they whisper to each other, too quietly for the camera to pick up. It’s only then that video-Atsumu peers up from where Sakusa is underneath him.

_“I forgot,” he says, and he uses Sakusa’s chest to push himself upright. Sakusa’s hands grab for him as he moves away._

_“Where are you going?”_

Atsumu watches himself stand, nude and confident as he approaches the camera— he glances back at the nightstand, the angle and the height would make it perfect for a video like this— and averts his gaze back to the screen.

 _“Did you film that?” Comes Sakusa’s winded, incredulous voice_.

_“Mm-hm,” Atsumu smiles, his flushed face filling the lens, the image shaky now, catching his shoulder, his jaw, his chest as he moves. The mattress shifts under his weight, and then it zooms out. Atsumu laughs, settling back on the bed and tucking himself tightly against Sakusa’s side as Sakusa finds a pillow and uses it to hide his face, groaning in embarrassment._

_“Omii,” Atsumu chides, snatching the pillow away and hurling it onto the floor. Sakusa wails dramatically and covers his eyes with his hands, mumbling to himself. Atsumu chuckles, beaming with pride. He presses a kiss to Sakusa’s neck and turns back to leer into the lens. “I’ll show you the vid later.”_

The screen goes black, and the little window minimizes itself. Atsumu stares blankly, his computer warm on his thigh. Atsumu drops his head back against the high pile of pillows, exhaling a long stream of air through puckered lips. He’s pretty sure Sakusa hasn’t watched the video and wonders if he should show it to him.

“No way, Omi doesn’t deserve to see this masterpiece,” Atsumu shrugs. A part of him doesn’t want to show it to Sakusa because Sakusa would probably know what he did when he watched it. Atsumu peered at his laptop. _Another round won’t hurt nobody._

* * *

Atsumu slept like a baby – hopefully it wasn’t obvious that he’d jerked off six of the seven times he watched the sex tape he didn’t remember making, until he was so spent and tired he passed out— up until the moment he heard knocking, and he opened his eyes to see a fuzzy Sakusa standing over him in a cruel moment of deja vu.

 _“WHAT ARE YER_ _DOING?”_ He shouts blindly, his eyes still stuck together with sleep. He blinks until Sakusa swims into focus, frozen and wide-eyed.

“You scared the crap out of me,” Sakusa exhales, his chest heaves beneath his t-shirt, and Atsumu’s gaze falls to the space next to him on the bed. The now very empty space next to him where he had left his laptop.

 _“WH- WHAT HAPPENED TO MY COMPUTER?_ _”_ Atsumu starts to panic, lifting up the comforter and only seeing his own legs. He lifts his butt, frantic, but it’s not underneath him. Sakusa shuffles closer to the edge of the bed, raising his arms above his head in a stretch.

Atsumu’s eyes eagle onto the stripe of skin between his shirt hem and the waistband of his sweats, and he curses to himself, colorfully.

“I moved it,” Sakusa is saying matter-of-factly, his lips pursed as he points to the nightstand. Atsumu whips around his head to see— it’s shut. “Come eat, I made u dinner but you were sleeping. I’ll reheat it if you want” Atsumu’s heart is thudding in his chest when he turns to meet Sakusa’s eyes. He’s standing with his hands on his hips, just at the edge of the bed.

His eyes grow in their sockets. Sakusa’s brow wrinkles with worry. His tongue flicks out over his lips— lips, Atsumu realizes with his pulse pounding in his ears, that know his own very well, lips that he saw on his own skin. He teeters a little where he sits on the bed, staring, dizzy with the ghost of sensation when those lips wrapped around him and sucked him in—

“Oh my god,” he whimpers to himself, faintly registering Sakusa stepping closer to the bed. So close. Too close.

“Tsumu” he says carefully, “are you coming?”

Coming. Coming, _coming, coming_. The word reverberates around Atsumu’s skull until his head throbs with it, and—

 _“Argh!”_ he screams, clenching his eyes shut to make it stop. He grabs a pillow and hurls it at Sakusa’s face. When it falls on the ground, Sakusa gave him a blank stare. “You’re not allowed to sleep at dusk ever again.”

**Author's Note:**

> you know that feeling when you sleep in the evening and wake up all delirious? yeah thats whats goin on with atsumu. also the mild panic he's experiencing with almost getting caught watchin those vids. I hope this was okay and the ending wasnt that awkward!
> 
> hopefully they weren't too ooc? especially with sakusa laughing and whinning but hey he's in loveee. You're one person in front of others and another type of person with the ones you love ayyy;) Comments n kudos are really appreciated!


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